


XO Gerard

by trohmoan



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trohmoan/pseuds/trohmoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU one shot where Frank and Gerard meet on a train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	XO Gerard

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Wattpad here: http://www.wattpad.com/story/20242232-xo-gerard-frerard-one-shot

        Frank just wanted to go home. He'd just spent a month in California and was looking forward to getting back to New Jersey. To him, though, it seemed like the world was against him. First, when we went to book his flight home, they were all sold out so he settled on the train, he had trouble checking out of his hotel, then he dropped his phone while getting out of a cab and shattered the screen, and somewhere along the way, he'd lost his jacket. Things weren't going his way and his mood reflected it.

        He doubted the train ride would help it, either. Frank was not looking forward to the long trip one bit. He could only hope that this would be the one part of this trip that would go well.

        Boarding the train, he quickly found a seat, choosing one by the window and facing forwards. There was a seat next to him and two more across from him with a small table between the two sets. It was set up so four people could easily communicate during the long ride and Frank hoped it wouldn't encourage anyone to bother him.

        After he'd put his bags away, he pulled out his iPod and pushed his ear buds in. He leaned back, tired, and scrolled through the contents until finding something suitable. At least the chairs were comfortable.  _Maybe I can sleep to pass the time_  he thought as he let his eyes slide shut.

        A moment later his eyes snapped back open when he faintly heard a man's voice ask over the music in his ears, "Mind if I sit here?" He was gesturing to one of the seats across from Frank, a shy look in his eyes. "Just about everywhere else is taken."

        "Yeah, go ahead," he told him with a nod, before turning his gaze out the window.

        "Great, thanks," the other man said, putting all but one of his bags away before sliding into the seat directly across from him.

        Frank watched, trying not to stare, as he pulled a sketchbook and a pencil out of the one bag he'd kept with him. He couldn't help but to notice how attractive this stranger was. His hair, not dissimilar to his own in color, was longer than a lot of men kept it and looked borderline greasy. As the man drew, he kept pushing it out of his face and behind his ear as if it was always in the way. Frank momentarily wondered what it'd be like to run his hands through it during a heated make out session or maybe something more but quickly shook the thought from his head.

        The next thing he noticed about the man sitting across from him was his complexion. He was pale, shockingly so, and it contrasted nicely with his dark hair. If he were to feel it, he imagined it would be smooth against his fingers or whatever part of him might be touching the other man.  _Shit, I'm thinking like that again_  he thought to himself, quickly trying to focus on something else.

        Frank tore his eyes away and gazed out the window once more, trying to direct his thoughts to the music playing through his ear buds. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the man across from him glancing up at him every so often, only to turn back to his sketch pad and make a few more marks with his pencil.  _He's not drawing me, is he?_

        The two men didn't speak until several hours had passed and night had fallen, the majority of the people on the train asleep. The unnamed man still was focused on whatever he had been drawing and Frank had just pulled out his ear buds when the train slowed, eventually coming to a stop.

        "What the hell..." Frank muttered to himself, craning his neck in attempt to see alongside the train through the window which caused the other man to look up. A confused expression clouded his features, brows furrowed, as he set his sketch pad aside, pencil balanced on top.

        "What's going on?" he asked Frank as if he might know by some off chance.

        "No idea. I mean, the train stopped but I don't know why," he answered, shrugging as he leaned back in his seat, resigning to that fact that he couldn't see shit.

        As if on cue, a voice came over the intercom, saying, "There are some animals blocking the tracks but we'll be moving again as soon as we can get them out of the way."

        Frank sighed as he heard the news, his eyes falling to the sketchbook the other man had set aside, still open to what he'd been working on this entire ride. It was a drawing of a man with short dark hair, a nose piercing, and a lip piercing. A tattoo of scissors with a ribbon wrapped around them decorated his neck and  _damn_  did he look a lot like Frank.

        "I-is that...?" Frank started to ask the man across from him, trailing off when he looked up.

        "Oh, I'm sorry- I shouldn't have- That was- I'm sorry-" he stuttered as he grabbed the notebook and hurriedly shut it, stopping abruptly when it was safely closed and in his hands.

        "No, no. You don't have to apologize. I mean,  _fuck_ , that's amazing. I just didn't realize you were doing it otherwise I would've, like, held still or something," he told him with a laugh at the last part.

        The man smiled softly at Frank, his words appearing to have put him at ease a little bit.

        "Can I see it?" Frank asked hesitantly, chewing on his lip ring.

        "Uh, yeah, sure." The man seemed reluctant but flipped the notebook back open to the same page and passed it across the table to Frank anyways.

        Frank was in awe; the drawing was done in a style that made him look like a character in a comic book and it was gorgeous. The quick, almost hasty looking lines carved out his features perfectly on the page, his expression one of exhaustion with his hand under his chin, holding his head up, looked spot on. It was almost as if he were staring into a mirror that turned everything into something from a comic book - minus the fact that it wasn't entirely finished, of course.

        "Wow, this is incredible. Where did you learn to draw like this?" he asked the man across from him as he handed the notebook back.

        He shrugged, admitting, "It's just self-taught, really."

        "Well I'm fucking impressed," Frank told him, leaning back in his chair.

        The man shrugged again before saying, "Not everything turns out this well. I mean, this is going to sound weird." The man paused, laughing a little and Frank smiled. "But you've got the perfect bone structure for drawing."

        The tattooed man smiled again, shooting a slightly confused look at the man across from him. "What do you mean by that?"

        "Well, some people just translate into better characters than others. I don't really know how to explain it," he told him, shrugging for a third time.

        "Your shoulders are going to fall off," Frank commented with a smirk, receiving a funny look from the still nameless man across from him. "My grandfather used to always tell me that every time I shrugged," he explained, causing the other man to laugh.

        "Well I think I'd like to keep my shoulders so maybe I'll have to cut down on that," he told him, a small smile still resting on his lips. Frank couldn't help but notice how great the other man looked when he smiled; it was like a ray of sunshine, as cliché as that sounded. He would have to find out which way this guy swung because Frank thought he was interested in this still nameless figure.

        "So..." Frank started after a few moments of awkward silence. "Where are you from?"

        "New Jersey. You?" The man answered as he slid the notebook back into his bag.

        "No fucking way! Me too," he told him, a smile curving his lips.

        "Whoa, that's cool. What part?" The man asked, returning the smile.

        "Belleville. You?"

        "Same. How did we not run into each other before this?" he rhetorically asked Frank, shaking his head a little in amazement.

        "I don't know, that's fucking crazy," he said in disbelief.

        A woman - a mother evidently, judging by the small child who's ears she was covering - shot Frank a glare.

        "Sorry," he mouthed to her, making a mental note to speak a little more cleanly simply for the sake of not getting any more dirty looks.

        Frank talked with the man across from him for a long time, even after the train started moving again. The two discovered they had quite a bit in common but Frank still didn't know the man's name or his sexuality and didn't know how to ask, especially about the latter, although he found out when it came time to part ways.

        "Well this is my stop," he said to Frank, standing up and pulling his luggage out of the holders. "Call me," he told him with a smirk, handing him a folded paper before walking towards the doors and stepping off the train.

        Frank watched him go, shamelessly looking at his ass as we walked. He felt lucky as hell. This stranger was into guys. Once he had disappeared from Frank's sight, he unfolded the paper to find what he assumed to be the mystery man's number and a short note:

_-xoGerard_


End file.
